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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24884800">Compass</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceWaffleHouse/pseuds/SpaceWaffleHouse'>SpaceWaffleHouse</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>One Shots from the Waffle House [31]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Light Bondage, No Pregnancy, Pirate Rey, Pirates of the CarREYbean, Prince Ben - Freeform, Princess Rey, Rope Bondage, Slightly sensual use of a knife, Smut, any questions, rey has trust issues</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:35:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,382</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24884800</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceWaffleHouse/pseuds/SpaceWaffleHouse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kira is not in the business of harboring fugitives aboard her ship, but for a doe-eyed prince disguised as a peasant, she makes an exception. </p>
<p>He says he’s running from an arranged marriage with a foreign princess. As it turns out, so is she. </p>
<p>She’s Princess Rey—his betrothed.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>One Shots from the Waffle House [31]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1298357</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>369</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Galactic Idiots Collection</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Compass</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Based on yet another <a href="https://twitter.com/galacticidiots/status/1275100864739450881?s=21">prompt</a> by galactic idiots on twitter.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There’s a blade at his throat. It’s pressing into his skin just above his carotid artery, just by that pulse that’s currently hammering against the steel. He thinks it’s steel. It feels cold, cold and almost a little wet, as if it has just taken blood from someone else, and he shivers to think of what’s about to happen to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing on my ship?” a voice hisses, low and deep but unmistakably feminine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shivers again, his entire body feeling numb except for the point where her knife is digging into her skin. He thinks she might’ve even drawn blood. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s insane. All he wants is to be free. This ship was supposed to be his salvation, his freedom from a life and a marriage he doesn’t want. Instead, he thinks it may become his tomb. Ben Solo, prince of Alderaan and heir to the throne, does not want to die here. He wants to die hidden on some island with a spouse he knows and loves and wants to marry and a little cottage by the beach. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not here. Not like this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m on the run,” he replies, his hands drifting slowly up as he feels her other hand start checking him for weapons. He doesn’t have any. He just wants to run. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone to do it. “I just want passage to the nearest island. I wasn’t going to bother you. I have my own food, my own water, I’ve hidden the pack somewhere on the ship but that’s all that’s in it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh huh,” she replies, then she tugs on his shirt, whipping him around to face her, but her knife never leaves his skin. In fact, he’s pretty sure she knicks it in the process. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once he's turned, though, he’s met with the most striking pair of hazel eyes he has ever seen. Somehow they’re also dark, but he has a feeling that has to do more with the charcoal smudged around her eyes than anything else. She has freckles, too; lots of them. They frame her face beautifully, he thinks, and so do the short, brunette waves that descend no further than her chin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beneath that stunningly beautiful face, he can see her chest heaving. She’s wearing a white shirt with a ruffle around the neckline, which has a string criss-crossed over the center, the string ends loose over the swell of her breasts. The shirt is tucked into trousers that are blacker than the night and shine in the faint moonlight that’s leaking through the nearby window into the belly of her ship. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who are you running from? Are they going to chase you? Do they know you’re gone?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They won’t find us if we leave port immediately, captain,” he says, hoping he’s guessed her title right so she’ll take pity on him and let him go. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The corner of her mouth tilts up in a little smirk, then she adjusts the knife so that the point of it is under his chin, tilting his head up toward the ceiling. It’s a prime position to slit his throat in, he knows, and he closed his eyes, bracing for death. “Well, so long as you weren’t followed—“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wasn’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do need someone to keep the books. Where are you headed, stowaway? Why did you run?”</span>
</p>
<p>Something in him tells him he can trust her, that in spite of everything, in spite of how impossible it is, this woman is worthy of telling everything to, and so in spite of his better judgement, he clears his throat. “I am the prince of this kingdom. I’m betrothed to a woman I do not know for a business arrangement I want no part of. I cannot go through with this marriage and commit myself to someone who doesn’t have my heart.”</p>
<p>
  <span>The captain blinks at him, her breath catching as she slowly lowers the knife, her hand shaking. “You’re lying to me. You must be.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I assure you, Captain, I am not.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another shuddering breath leaves her, then she whirls away from him, charging up the steps he’d come down to get here before he hears her shout. “Deploy sails! We’re leaving. Whatever isn’t already on the ship is staying behind!”</span>
</p>
<p>Above, he can hear the ship descending into chaos, and since she didn’t tell him to stay put, Ben ascends the staircase, emerging onto the deck of the ship as the crew rushes about and ropes become untied as they push them away from the port. The city looms tall and bright above them, but he knows that soon it will be naught but a distant memory. They are leaving. Something in what he’d told her about his identity had rushed their captain to get them far, far away from Alderaan, and he isn’t sure what it is, but he’s going to find out. </p>
<p>
  <span>Before he can try and find the mysterious captain again, though, there’s a sharp pain at the back of his head, and the lights of his kingdom, the castle, and the port below, all fade to black. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s unconscious long before he hits the floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he wakes, it’s to the flickering of firelight from a lantern as it shines through his eyelids. The light is far too bright, and he blinks furiously at it as he turns away, trying his best to avoid looking at the lantern—which is situated on a nearby wooden table—but he can’t move. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Looking up, he finds his wrists have been bound to the head of whoever’s bed he’s laying on. Specifically, they are bound behind him, out of sight and out of mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His feet, however, are free, and as he wiggles his toes in the thick leather of his boots—which are luckily still on—he finally notices the figure on the table, the woman who’d held a knife to his throat earlier. Right now, she’s twirling that knife by the handle, its point spinning on the wood of her little table as she props one leg upon the wooden stool she sits on, and another is sprawled out by the foot of his—her?—bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who are you?” he asks, tugging slightly on his ropes even though he knows it’s useless. “Why am I being restrained?”</span>
</p>
<p>“You’re the prince of Alderaan,” she tells him casually, and it’s now that he notices the gentle rocking of the ground around them, the casual movements of her ship as little splashes sound from outside. They’re at sea. If ever there was a chance for him to go back and return to the palace, it is long gone, now. “If I am to believe you, that makes you dangerous.”</p>
<p>
  <span>“How?” He tugs again. “How am I dangerous? I told you I meant you no harm, captain.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My name is Kira.” She holds up a hand, then she leans forward, gripping the handle of her knife as she keeps it pinned to the table. Somehow, he feels as though he’s the one who is actually being pinned, the one who is truly prone and vulnerable. Not the wood. “I tied you up so you wouldn’t see where we were going. If someone found you and took you from my ship, things would end very badly for both of us. It’s for your safety.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So I had to be tied up?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t know how you’d react to being knocked unconscious.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I be untied now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kira frowns, then she swings her legs in front of her, and rises to her feet. When she’d had her blade at his throat, he hadn’t thought she was particularly tall. She just seemed a bit intimidating because of the blade, but now, when she has him like this, she almost seems to tower over him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s alarming how much he almost seems to enjoy it. His cock certainly does going by the way it twitches in his pants. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who are you marrying, your highness?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Should he be telling her this? He doesn’t know his fiancé, but he doesn’t want to get her killed, and Kira, though he doesn’t know her particularly well either, seems kind of dangerous. “Princess Rey Palpatine of Naboo.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, and what do you know of your fiancé?” She puts the knife between her hands, the point of it pressing delicately on one palm while the handle points against the other. “What happened to her?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Disbelief filling him, Ben blinks at her. “What do you mean, ‘what happened to her?’”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kira just laughs. “You don’t know? The emperor’s daughter abandoned her post months ago.” She sets the knife down over his head—well, to be precise, she stabs it into the wood of the bed frame—and bends over him. “He’s kept it quiet of course, doesn’t want to lose his correspondence with Alderaan. Your parents hardly trust him as is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How do you know this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She holds up a finger. “I’m not finished.” Then she walks away, offering him a view of a firm, perky ass through the leather of her trousers. “She’s been gone. Naboo has kept it quiet, and wouldn’t you like to know why?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Enlighten me,” he says dryly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At the same time in the Nabooian sea, between the ports of our respective kingdoms there’s been an awful lot of pirate activity, but the emperor won’t talk about that either.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “I’ll wait.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Confusion wells within him, but it makes him think. Why does this woman, this captain, know so much about the arrangement between their kingdoms? Does she plan on selling him to the highest bidder? Ordering him to give her all of his secrets to trade like goods on the black market? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, it’s not that, it’s more than that. It’s… </span>
  <em>
    <span>no. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“You’re Rey Palpatine.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There it is.”</span>
</p>
<p>“So you’re my fiancé then?” he asks, his voice high with disbelief. </p>
<p>
  <span>She spreads her arms wide as if gesturing you herself. “That would be correct.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can see why I’m having trouble trusting you now, aren't I? You’re the man I was doomed to marry before I commandeered one of my father’s ships.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, no, she can’t possibly think he’s here to—does she think that this is all an act? A trap laid out by his people? Is that why she’s taking him to be dropped off at the nearest island? So much for this being about his safety. “Your highness, I assure you, I am running for the same reasons you are.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How am I supposed to trust you? We’ve never met, and the coincidence of the prince of Alderaan, my betrothed, showing up on this particular ship, where I am the captain?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Believe me, if I had known I would have chosen a different ship,” he snaps back, then he sighs, leaning his head back against the headboard. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rey almost seems to laugh as she leans over him again, studying him for a moment as her face falls. “You really are just trying to run from this, aren't you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” he breathes, then he lets out a sigh of relief as he spots that first spark of trust in her eyes. “You believe me, don’t you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nodding, Rey presses a hand on his shoulder, her palm warm as she steels herself. “I do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good, then let me propose an idea, your highness—Captain—let me work for you. I know how to navigate the seas better than anyone in Alderaan. My father was a pirate and I spent time in the navy,” he informs her, pleading with not only his words but his eyes as the last traces of distrust begin to fade from hers. “I have excellent skills in mathematics, reading—I could do your books. We could do business together and never have to return to our kingdoms. They won’t expect to find us together, will they?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, they won’t,” she replies, then she laughs. “Well, you certainly weren’t what I was expecting from my betrothed. I thought you’d be a petulant and entitled brat.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I thought you’d be naught but a doe-eyed Princess.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I suppose we’ve both gotten each other wrong then, haven’t we?” There’s a glint of mischief in her eye as she looks down at him then, her fingers trailing slowly down from his shoulder toward the center of his chest, where the laces of his shirt must have come undone in the scuffle that brought him down here. “All right, Solo, you have a deal.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He smiles with relief, then looks up at his restraints. “Good, now untie next so we can get started.”</span>
</p>
<p>Her palm spreads out on his chest, drawing his attention there as she pins him to the mattress. “What our kingdoms want from us… is for us to be perfect porcelain dolls. They want us embroiled in a world of war and politics, for me to do nothing except wear pretty dresses and jewelry and have children. They want us clean and pure for one another until we take our vows, to be nothing but pawns in a centuries long game.”</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you saying?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If we are going to run away…” Her fingers trail lower on his chest, drifting down between the planes of his abdominal muscles. “Just tell me if you want me to stop.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His breath hitches as he finally catches on to what it is she wants. “You don’t want to untie me first?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I don’t. I want to trust you, but I need something from you first,” she tells him, her fingers drifting down to the laces of his trousers. “Let’s spite them. We’ve already run away, and you—well—you aren’t the worst to look at, I suppose.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His breath catches as she crawls over him, her legs straddling his hips as his wrists strain against the rope she’s tied him up with. “And neither are you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>pirate</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he growls as she rests the apex of her thighs against his hardening cock. “Fuck.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She takes his face in her hands, her lips parting in a wicked grin. “And you are going to be the greatest treasure I steal,” she whispers, then she kisses him, her lips igniting a fire in his heart as he grinds up toward her, his cock seeking the heat between her thighs as she begins to move her hips against him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The princess he was destined to marry tastes like the sea mist and spice, her lips are unexpectedly soft in spite of the time she’s spent on the ocean. Most sailors find themselves chapped and bloody weeks in, but Rey tastes like the heavens themselves. She feels like it, too. Every brush of her lips against his reminds him of the gentle rocking of her ship through the deep waters of the Alderaan sea, the subtle roll and crash between each wave, and he melts into it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wishes he could bury his hands in her hair, touch her body, make her sing as she rides his middle and forefinger, make her fall apart and howl like a wolf, but his hands are bound. Oddly, he finds he loves it. The lack of control on his end allows her hands unlimited access to his body, and she takes advantage of this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her hands are everywhere. He feels them on his pectoral muscles, his throat, his stomach, his ass, and all the while he feels the warmth of her cunt through her trousers, hears her moan as she writhes against him. Pleasure in its most pure and basic form floods him, and he’s certain if he caught a glimpse of himself right now, he’d find himself flushing pink, but he won’t find that. He won’t find anything but her on top of him, because instead, his eyes are closed, his head tilted back against the bed as his arms pull against his restraints. It’s not because he doesn’t want to be held down either, he just needs something to focus on so that he doesn’t fall apart beneath her before they can properly begin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In his bones, he knows whatever is happening to him now is just that, a start, a beginning, but he still wants to commit to memory the first time this happens. He’s never had sex with strange pirates before, even if he was always supposed to marry this strange pirate anyway. He is going to enjoy this, and so he lets his hips buck up into hers, thrusting his erection against her clit as she breaks the kiss to cry his name. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mercy finds him seconds later as her hands thread themselves in his hair, her nails taking against his scalp as he leans forward to press kisses on her neck. She tugs him back before he can leave a mark on her skin, her lips descending to </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>throat as he gasps her name, her title, whatever he can think to say as he feels the glass he’s made of start to crack. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soon he will shatter, and he wants to take her down with him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soft little gasps escape him as she leaves a mark over his pulse point, causing the restraints binding his wrists to bite into his skin. It hurts, but somehow the pain blends into the pleasure, and he feels his cock begin to leak precome in his trousers, praying she has a change of clothes for him when this is done. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, <em>Rey</em>,” he whispers, hearing her whisper his name in return just before her lips crash onto his again, and he sees stars in his vision. His entire world ignites into fire seconds later, fireworks exploding in vibrant colors as his glass finally shatters, the wave crests, and he comes harder than he ever has in his life, his own hand paling in comparison to the ecstasy that fills him right now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Above him, through the layers of their clothes, he can feel Rey’s cunt begin to flutter over his erection. She falls apart half a second after he does, and he’s floating as the ties binding his wrists seem to want to tear through them. His eyes remain tightly shut until it’s all over, his mind blank as he hears her whimper quietly on top of him, clearly feeling something similar if not the same to whatever it is he’s feeling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually, he opens his eyes, staring in awe at the woman on top of him as their chests heave, and she looks at him through the curtain of hair that’s fallen into her eyes. He watches hypnotized a second later as she then runs a hand through her hair, brushing it away as she nods, smiling past the flush coloring her cheeks in satisfaction at the sight of him. “I think you will make a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine </span>
  </em>
  <span>addition to my crew,” she mutters quietly, causing him to smirk as he tilts his head up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I reckon so.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A very fine one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If that is so, Captain, would you care to untie me? I believe you promised me use of my hands after this. I’ll need them to do your books,” he reminds her, quirking an eyebrow as she lowers her hands from his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, absolutely,” she promises him, lifting her hands to begin untying the sailor’s knot she’s tied his hands into. “But I just need you to promise me one thing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She undoes the first part of the knot. “Say you’ll let me do it again, and you’re free.”</span>
</p>
<p>The smirk parts his lips anew as she finishes untying his wrists, and he lets his hands come up to wrap around her waist, and pull her close. “Anything you want, Captain.”</p>
<p>
  <span>Another smile forms, then she brushes back a piece of his hair, and for a moment, he thinks she’s going to kiss him again, but then she pulls back. “Good, then let’s get to work, Ben. We have an awful lot of ocean to sail.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, your highness,” he says, then he allows her to pull him out of the bed, the two of them making their way through the ship as they begin their life together, perhaps not in the way their families had intended, but entirely in the way that it was always meant to be. </span>
</p>
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